


Indelible

by sammininoofthelord, Z A Dusk (snakeandmoon)



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley Through The Ages (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley in Love (Good Omens), Collabs, Community: Do It With Style Events, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Epistolary, Letters, Love Letters, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, fic with art, gentle piney angst is where it's at
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:48:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29153052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammininoofthelord/pseuds/sammininoofthelord, https://archiveofourown.org/users/snakeandmoon/pseuds/Z%20A%20Dusk
Summary: An intimate look at Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship through the millennia, told in letters to one another. Communicating through writing is a good way to stay under Heaven and Hell's radars - and sometimes to say the things they’re not ready to say face to face.  Will they ever be able to act on the love that is so clearly written across their hearts?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 93
Collections: Do It With Style Good Omens Reverse Bang





	Indelible

**Author's Note:**

> My second Reverse Bang fic! I was lucky enough to be paired with [ Sammininoofthelord](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammininoofthelord/pseuds/sammininoofthelord) who created the beautiful art that inspired this piece. As soon as I saw Aziraphale holding a letter my brain started ticking over the possibility of writing an epistolary fic, and Indelible was born!
> 
> Thank you as always to [Mira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/miraworos) for excellent beta work and endless cheerleading! Writing Aziraphale and Crowley in the first person was more challenging than I'd realised, and the support helped immensely.

_Garden of Eden, 4004 BC_

Aziraphale sighed and looked around at the Garden. While he was sure God’s plan must be correct, there was something sad about seeing the beautiful Garden empty. It would never know the sound of human voices, of laughter and singing, again. Maybe the demon … maybe Crawly ... was right, and it was an overreaction. But of course, he would say that. He was a demon. It was his job to spread dissent. Aziraphale could not allow Crawly to instill doubt in his mind. He would certainly be highly commended by Hell if he succeeded in making an angel of the Lord doubt Her ways.

Even so, sending the humans, one of them a pregnant woman, out into the world to fend for themselves, seemed rather harsh. Hopefully the sword would at least provide some protection. Aziraphale wasn’t at all sure if he’d done the right thing, but surely he was supposed to guard the humans, not just the Garden? No one had told him that specifically, but what was the point in guarding Eden if he did not also guard its precious inhabitants, the very first of their kind?

Head heavy with thinking about it, Aziraphale turned towards the Gate. His role in the Garden was over now. Nothing left to do but close the Gate, and return to Heaven for further instructions.

Just before the gate, something caught his eye. It was an ordinary stone, but the surface had a strange look to it. Aziraphale bent and picked it up. It was smooth and oval shaped, and fit perfectly in his palm. Peering closer, he saw that the strange marks on the grey surface were simple pictures. A curved line that clearly depicted a snake, and simple shapes that formed a winged figure in robes.

A snake and an angel.

Before Aziraphale could come to any conclusions about the discovery, a rustling sound distracted him from his ruminations. The long grasses shifted like waves rippling on the surface of the ocean. Moments later, Crawly’s sleek black form appeared, the bright sunlight catching on the surface of his scales. 

“Ah, hello,” Aziraphale said politely, as politeness seemed to be his default mode.

“Hello,” the serpent replied. His voice was more sibilant than when he was human-shaped, but the words were clear enough.

“Do you … know how this got here?” Aziraphale asked, suddenly taken with the idea that Crawly must know. He must. No one else had been in the garden apart from the humans, and stones do not carve themselves.

“Course not. Lots of weird things happening while earth is still settling down. Anyway, I came to say goodbye. Heading back to Hell for new instructions, and I suppose you’ll be returning to Heaven.”

“Yes … yes, rather. Well … do take care. Perhaps we shall cross paths again.”

“Perhaps.” Crawly tilted his head, his yellow eyes seeming soft somehow as he looked at Aziraphale for a long moment. Then he turned and slithered away, vanishing into the lush green grass of the Garden.

As Aziraphale watched him go, he found himself instinctively holding the stone tighter. Perhaps we shall cross paths again, he muttered to himself. As if he would desire to see a demon again. Politeness. That was all. Just because Crawly was a demon, there was no need to be rude. Shaking his head, at odds with himself about what he was about to do, he tucked the stone into the sleeve of his robe. It didn’t mean anything, of course. It might bear further examination, that was all. He was simply being thoughtful.

Trying very hard not to think too much about any of it, he sealed up the Eastern Gate, and made his way back to Heaven.

* * *

_Villa Cicero, Rome, 41 AD_

To his colleague, Crowley

I hope this missive reaches you before you move on. By my calculation it should reach you within the day, being less than five stages from here to Tivoli, but I confess I may have employed a small miracle to ensure its passage to you is a smooth one. I would not want private correspondence to fall into the wrong hands, after all.

Most people favour thin pieces of wood, but I thought parchment easier to write on. Quite honestly I am surprised I did not think of writing to you before, but it seemed rather personal and I did not wish to be rude. But as we have met several times now, and even dined together, perhaps it is not too presumptive of me?

I very much enjoyed taking you for oysters. I cannot believe you have not tried them before - you seem like a person who would embrace new experiences! Perhaps we might repeat the experience if we are both stationed in Rome again?

I hope I did not offend by asking you about your work. I did not intend to judge, only to be polite. When I said it must be hard to tempt such a man as Caligula, I did not mean to imply that you could not do it, only that perhaps you might find the task unpalatable.

It cannot be easy, being forced to cause harm to others, or at least, to tempt others to cause harm. I know I would find that difficult. I hope … I hope it is not too challenging.

Be well,

Aziraphale

_Villa VIta, TIvoli, 41 AD_

To the terribly formal angel Aziraphale

I told you, I am perfectly capable of carrying out temptations. I’m a demon. I don’t need pitying. If Hell got word that someone up here thinks I’m not capable of my job, it would not go well for me.

Fare well,  
Crowley

PS Oysters this Friday?

_Villa Cicero, Rome, 41 AD_

Petronius’ restaurant again? I shall be there at sundown. My treat.

Aziraphale

_House of Cicero, Rome, 410 AD_

To his dear acquaintance, Crowley

I hope you will pardon my writing to you. So many years have passed since we partook of oysters together. It seems whenever our paths cross, one of us is always in a hurry to some assignment or another.

It is frightful here at the present. Heaven gave me a vague edict about comforting the suffering, but I have recently received a communique from Gabriel that I may return to Heaven for a new assignment “whenever it is convenient.”

How can I leave now, though? The city is in ruins. So many captured to be sold as slaves, so many tortured. I was able to use my divine influence to persuade Alaric’s armies to let the basilicas of Peter and Paul stand as sanctuaries, that there might at least be a chance for citizens to find safety. I realise I cannot stand beside every last human being and protect them from themselves and each other, but it is so hard to observe. 

I am drifting from my point, however. I had intended to offer some further explanation of my suppositions in my last letter. Yes I know we have seen each other since then, and it was almost four centuries ago, but the things I have witnessed here have brought it to my mind once more. 

We do not know each other well, and I ought not to have assumed your feelings about carrying out temptations. I only meant that … well … I saw the horror in your eyes at the Ark, and at Golgotha. You do not seem like someone who would be able to be party to genuine harm, such as the horrors perpetuated by Caligula, and remain unmoved by it. 

We are the only other beings on this planet - at least, who spend a significant amount of time here - who are similar in terms of age and physical composition. I do not know what it is like to carry out temptations. However, I do know what it is like to live among humans, and to observe the harm they so willingly do to one another, of which I am being powerfully reminded at this moment. I hope you are not finding it too taxing. 

How is the Kingdom of Fortriu?

With good wishes for health and happiness,

Aziraphale

_Kingdom of Fortriu, Scotland, 410 AD_

To Aziraphale with best wishes,

Does Heaven know you used a miracle to send me a letter? I’m going to spend one on replying, too. I don’t much fancy the luck of any piece of parchment travelling all the way to Rome from here. 

Be careful, staying there. Our bodies can get hurt even if they’re hardier than standard issue human ones.

Fortriu is blasted cold and filled with sheep, cows, and grumpy crofters. But it’s fine, I suppose. Better than Hell. Scenery’s pleasant enough, if you like that sort of thing. I’m supposed to be spreading dissent and encouraging the various bits of Alba to argue with each other, but the only temptation I’m interested in right now is tempting one of the women in the settlement here to weave me another six blankets or tunics or something.

I have to be careful, you know. Can’t let Hell know I don’t exactly love tempting people to violence and depravity. Bit of mischief’s fine. Can even appreciate the satisfaction of a job well done when I spread some discord, encourage people to indulge their baser desires. But there’s a thick line between “crofter got mad and let his neighbour’s horse out” and “despotic leader massacred innocents.” I try to steer clear of that sort of thing when I can get away with it.

Feel like I should add something here about not dropping me in hot water (or sulphur) by sharing this, but somehow I know you won’t do that.

Thanks for caring, I suppose I’m trying to say.

With continued hopes for your well being etc,

Crowley

_Saint-Nicasius-des-Prés Abbey, Paris, 500 AD_

To Aziraphale with best intentions and so on (why must we write such a lot just to say hello? Who came up with this?)

They like their monasteries here, don’t they? I’m run ragged with trying to tempt all these blasted monks to turn from God. Why Hell thinks this is so vital, I have no idea. There are plenty of religious people out there to corrupt, but I suppose monks are a better prize than some bored local priest. There are plenty of religious people out there who don’t need corrupting either. They’ve done it themselves. Nothing left for me to do.

You’re probably rolling your eyes right now, but you know I’m right.

Where are you right now, then? Handy that I can just miracle letters to you and they’ll find you, but keep an eye out for Heaven, yes? They like to poke their nose in. Hell is more interested in ticking things off their list.

With warm wishes for your continued strength,

Crowley

PS I know it was you who sent the blankets. 

_Wintan-ceastre, Wessex, 521 AD_

To Crowley with kind thoughts from a friend

Of course I sent them. When I saw you in Paris you looked so cold, though you tried to act as if nothing were amiss. I understand, you know. Being on earth rather tires one at times. These corporations, though they are capable of long life (eternal, one assumes, though I dare not ask), crave comfort and warmth as much as any other human body.

I am in Wessex, where I have been sent to help King Arthur spread goodness and fairness in the land. Please do not trouble yourself about Heaven. I have had a couple of reprimands of late, so I am being more cautious not to attract attention.

Though perhaps I ought to cut down on the frivolous miracles a little, if I wish to continue sending these letters unseen.

With formal greetings and an eye for human customs even if you would rather shorten our salutations,

Aziraphale

_Scotland, 542 AD_

Look, Aziraphale, maybe it was not the best time to bring it up. We were both damp and cold and frustrated with our assignments. Think about it though, will you? We keep cancelling each other out, so what’s the point in both doing the work? Not to mention the amount of assignments that are just damned inconvenient - seems like both our respective sides like tedium and pointless exercises. 

Could be a lot more convenient this way. Imagine if you’d had an assignment in Scotland this week. Would have been a wasted effort you coming all the way up here, when I was going anyway. Could have done it for you.

I know Heaven keeps a tighter rein than Hell, but they’re just as interested in getting things done, at the end of the day. We could save a lot of trouble this way.

Would even give us more free time to sample whatever alcoholic things the humans dream up next. See if they’re drinkable.

Crowley

PS For the love of Someone, no more ridiculous salutations, I beg you. They make my teeth itch. As if we were bound by human convention. I might just as well open with To the multi eyed winged one and sign it with best wishes for your continued failure to thwart me, the Serpent of Eden.

_Camelot Court, Wessex, 542 AD_

To The Serpent of Eden with kind thoughts of are you jesting? I have thwarted you many a time

I told you what I thought when we met at Camelot and I have not changed my mind. My dear fellow, they would surely find out. It is far too risky. It is not that I do not appreciate your offer, or see the sense in it, but I cannot simply go about lying to Heaven. Your lot might not care, but I can most firmly assure you that my lot do.

Aziraphale who must surely keep all his eyes on Heaven, just in case.

_County Clare, Ireland, 700 AD_

Aziraphale,

I know you’re stationed nearby. I can sense angelic energy, you know. Ring fort life is hardly thrilling, is it? If you came to my ring fort we could at least drink and tell each other tales of our adventures (though mine seem to be mostly persuading people to steal cattle - Hell’s standards are slipping). Look, it’s fine if you don’t want to come to any sort of arrangement. But I don’t have anyone else to verbally spar with, and you always have the best stories.

Crowley

_County Clare, Ireland, 700 AD_

Dear Crowley,

I apologise most profusely. I do not know what came over me. The stars looked so magnificent and you were so animated talking about them, and the beer was admittedly very strong … nevertheless, that is no excuse. It will not happen again.

With kind thoughts,  
Aziraphale

_County Clare, Ireland, 700 AD_

Dear Aziraphale,

It was a delicious kiss. Did I seem upset? I seem to recall kissing you back with a fair amount of enthusiasm. 

Crowley

_County Clare, Ireland, 700 AD_

Dear Crowley,

I think it best if we do not speak of this again.

Sincerely,

Aziraphale

_County Clare, Ireland 700 AD (unsent)_

_My dear Crowley,_

_I wish I could tell you the whole truth: That I want to speak of it. I want to tell you that nothing has ever felt as right to me as kissing you did. What would you think, I wonder, if you knew that every time I close my eyes I taste the smoke and copper of your kiss? That the way you sighed as we drew apart is written indelibly across my heart now._

_But I cannot speak of such things. I ought not to even think of them. What was I thinking? You are a demon and I am an angel, and this is quite utterly inappropriate. It could lead to untold dangers for both of us. I shall burn this letter and may I be forgiven for the feelings you have stirred in me._

_County Clare, Ireland, 700 AD_

Keep in touch though, yes? You’re the only other supernatural being I can stand to be around, and being a properly selfish demon, I want to keep that.

Crowley

_County Clare, Ireland 700 AD (unsent)_

_Dear Aziraphale,_

_I know you’re afraid of Heaven finding out, but surely we can stay away from their notice? They cannot be watching you every minute of every day._

_Well, I suppose I know better than anyone what Heaven can be like, so if you say we’re better not to speak of it, then we won’t speak of it._

_I will always think of it though, angel. The dark night and bright stars and you so warm and willing in my arms. I could have kissed you till dawn and still wanted more._

_Always,_

_Your Crowley_

* * *

_Nr. Cheapside, Lundenburg 978 AD_

Dear Crowley,

I do hope you can make it to Lundenburg for a visit soon. I think you would find it interesting. It is rapidly developing as a trading spot, and I hear that Æthelred favors it over Winchester for issuing laws, despite the latter being the current political centre. I daresay there are ample opportunities for temptation here - though of course I am duty bound to thwart you - so you can easily give Hell reasons for your attendance here, should you wish it.

With kind thoughts,  
Aziraphale

_San Gimignano, Italy 1020 AD_

Dear Aziraphale,

It’s damnably boring out here, tempting all these pilgrims on their way to Rome. Course Hell put me right next to the Via Francigena, so I could catch as many as possible. The Vernaccia wine isn't bad though. Apparently it inspires both popes and poets. Load of horseshit that, but it’s drinkable. You’d love the local cheese.

I probably lingered a bit too long in Lundenburg, really. It was good fun though, wasn’t it? I miss arguing with you. Was getting used to having you nearby. 

Crowley

_Nr. Cheapside, Lundenburg 1020 AD_

Dear Crowley,

You know, if we were to come to the sort of arrangement you suggested some years ago, it would give us a little more free time, that we might spend together, if we wished.

What do you think?

Yours,

Aziraphale

_San Gimignano, Italy 1020 AD_

Dear Aziraphale,

Took you long enough to realise I was right. You have yourself a deal.

Crowley

_Cant’s Close, Edinburgh, Scotland, 1285_

Dear Aziraphale,

Once we could pass off as a moment of boredom or weakness or whatever else gives us a convenient excuse. But a second time … not so sure, angel.

Was a pretty wonderful kiss though, hm?

Crowley

_Cant’s Close, Edinburgh, Scotland, 1286 (unsent)_

_Angel,_

_We need to talk about this. I need to see you, I need to stroke that moonlit hair of yours and feel your lips on mine once more. Satan’s sake I wish I could tell you that it was worth falling just for this, just to meet you. You’re the best thing Heaven ever created and far too good for any of them._

_I want to protect you. I want to love you. I would give anything to keep you close to me, even though I know it is but a fool’s hope._

_Ever yours,_  
_Crowley_

_Bath, Somerset, 1285_

Dear Crowley,

I am not entirely sure we should talk about it, yet it would seem utterly gauche not to. It was such a breathtaking night, and the things you said about the beauty of the world, how much more beautiful it is than Heaven, how it is worth fighting for … and the way you looked at me, Crowley. No one has ever looked at me like that, as if I were … precious.

I swear, I did not intend for this to happen. I am so conflicted. Your kiss is finer than any wine and more stirring to my soul than any music I have ever heard, and yet I cannot help but feel this is not safe.

I should not send this. But you deserve to know how welcome, and how thrilling, your kiss was. 

Yours,  
Aziraphale

_Kyoto, Japan, 1299_

Dear Aziraphale,

Hard to imagine a better start to the new century than stealing time alone with you. You will be back in Scotland by now - Heaven is a bit obsessed with sending you there, isn’t it? - and I find even the vibrant city of Kyoto is duller without you here. I am getting very bloody fond of you, you know, and those soft, eloquent kisses of yours are not helping with that. 

Probably shouldn’t feel this way, and definitely shouldn’t talk to you about it. But as it’s the new year - new century even - and the humans are obsessed with it being a time of new beginnings …

Do you want to start something new, with me? We’ve both been fairly quick to make the most of human food and music and theatre and comforts … maybe it’s time we tried out human relationships.

I don’t want you to just be “an angel” or “Aziraphale” or “the enemy”. Want you to be mine.

Just tell me if I have a chance. Please.

Crowley

_Holyrood Abbey, Edinburgh, 1299_

My darling Crowley,

You do not know how I pored over your letter, tracing every line with my fingers, reading it so often that I’ve easily committed it to memory by now.

But you must, I think, already know my answer. We cannot risk it. We cannot. I was, reluctantly, in the war, I have seen what happens to disobedient angels. I dare not think what happens to disobedient demons.

If anything were to happen to you because of our … our feelings … for each other, I could not bear it. I cannot do something that might put you in danger.

As things are, we can easily make excuses for the time we spend together, under the guise of thwarting one another, or seeing what the “enemy” is doing. Were we to … to allow ourselves greater intimacy, I should be afraid of letting our guard slip, somehow.

I cannot trust myself to love you and still keep us both safe, Crowley. We both know this world is not forever. The potential pain of losing you if the Great Plan comes to pass, is already enough to steal life, and hope, from inside my heart. How much more potent would it be if I let myself develop deeper feelings for you?

I would rather we continue as we are and keep you in my life, as selfish as I know that sounds, than risk losing you, either to Hell’s retribution, or my own recklessness.

I know you do not think of me as reckless. But my heart, once left to its own devices, could be. It could be very reckless, for you.

I am truly sorry, Crowley. Please know that sending you this letter causes me deeper regret than I have known in all my long years of life.

Aziraphale

_Holyrood Abbey, Edinburgh, 1299 (unsent)_

_My dear, fierce, reckless, darling Crowley._

_I am yours. I am yours, I am yours, I am yours. You have every chance with me. I cannot risk this but oh how I want to. How I long for you, Crowley, I think of you night and day. I have never felt more alive than I do when I am with you._

_I will consign this to the flames now so that it can never incriminate me, nor bring you to danger. But I wanted to write these words, just once. To see them in my own hand._

_I love you, Crowley. I will always love you._

_Kyoto, Japan, 1299_

Angel,

I understand. I won’t pretend my heart doesn’t ache. It does. But I understand.

Might be quiet for a bit. Just need some time, you understand?

Wanted to let you know so you don’t worry. I’m not upset with you. I promise I’ll be back in touch eventually. 

You won’t lose my friendship, Aziraphale. You have that for as long as I can give it.

Crowley

* * *

_University College, Oxford, 1351_

Dear Crowley,

Oh I do hope you are well. You are so terribly good at concealing yourself. It is my desperate hope that you are either finding new things to entertain you in this ever-evolving world, or that you are simply enjoying a long nap.

I understand that you need space and I realise that writing to you every other decade is absolutely not granting you that. I confess that I have been keeping my ear to the ground, as it were, Upstairs, in case I might hear something, anything, about what you are doing. Please forgive me, Crowley, I did not mean to intrude, only to ascertain if you were well.

It makes sense that you do not wish to speak with me. I assume, however, that the ability to miracle letters to one another will remain for as long as we wish it to, so to that end, I do hope you will be in touch if you would like to. 

If there is anything you need from me, you have only to ask.

With best wishes,  
Aziraphale

_Bou Inania Madrasa, Fes, Morocco, 1380_

Aziraphale,

Thanks for staying in touch. Sorry it took me a while to respond.

What are you doing at University College, then? Aiding the scholars in their divinity studies, I assume? 

I’m supposed to be spreading dissent here at the Madrasa. After all, scholars of other faiths are by their very nature offensive to God, I am sure. You are probably rolling your eyes at me. Well, you may imagine me rolling my eyes too, at all these ridiculous divisions. Yeah I know, demon, supposed to spread division etc, but truth be told, I’m spending more time giving some sneaky lessons about astronomy. There are some quick minds here and sowing the seeds of knowledge about the universe is very satisfying. 

You’re kind, angel. I do want to keep in touch. Let’s get drinks next time we’re on the same continent, yes?

Yours,  
Crowley

_Bou Inania Madrasa, Fes, Morocco, 1380 (unsent)_

_My dear angel,_

_I kept every one of those letters. I still have them. They are my most treasured possession, read so often that they’ve gone all smooth, like rocks worn down by the tides._

_I love you. I love you so much it hurts._

_Crowley_

_Peterhouse, University of Cambridge, 1389_

Dear Crowley,

I left Oxford after the St Scholastica Day riot. What a terrible thing that was. You were not behind it, were you?

Cambridge is shaping up to be a beautiful city. Should you be in the area, I would be glad to show you around. 

I have missed you, you know.

Aziraphale

_Bou Inania Madrasa, Fes, Morocco, 1389_

Aziraphale, I am, naturally, deeply offended that you would suggest such a thing.

I was not involved. But a good war between the townspeople and scholars sounds fun. Is there still tension now? Perhaps I’ll pop over and instigage some extra animosity. Hell would approve, and Oxford is close enough to Cambridge that I could easily nip over to see you.

Crowley

_Arundel Castle, Arundel, 1450_

No, Crowley, I will not explain how I became Earl of Arundel. It’s a very long story involving too much ale (on his part, not mine), the sale of a horse, and an ancient prediction by the Witch of the Well, whoever she is.

On to much more important things. The printing press, Crowley! I know you had a hand in it. Call it intuition or a lucky guess, but I do.

What an absolute wonder. This will revolutionise the creation of books. I can scarcely believe such a thing exists. Thank you, thank you!

I have arranged for something to be sent to you also, that I think you will enjoy.

Kindly,  
Aziraphale

_Kirschgarten, Mainz, Germany, 1450_

Dear Aziraphale,

The astrolabe is an incredible invention! Did you have a hand in it? No, don’t tell me, I know you mustn’t say. Thank you, though.

I’m glad you approve of the printing press, which of course a demon would never create for an angel. If he did, he would have to wreak havoc with patent laws in England and frustrate many people, to balance it. 

Yours,   
Crowley

_Greenwich Palace, Greenwich, 1500_

Dear Aziraphale,

Court life is so bloody tedious. I’m so bored. Completely transcendentally bored. Please say you can spare a visit soon, I’m in dire need of decent company.

Crowley

_Greenwich Palace, Greenwich, 1500 (unsent)_

_Damn it, angel, just come here, would you? I know you loved the press. I know we’re doing well enough, you and I. But nothing will completely satisfy me till I see you. It’s been too long since Oxford and I want to hear your laugh and see your damnably expressive face. Even if you’re scowling at me and telling me off for some comment I’ve made about a play or book you’re obsessed with. Especially then._

_Always yours, hope you realise that,_  
_Crowley_

_The Strand, London, 1601_

Aziraphale, 

Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that you were blindly following Heaven’s edicts. Just seems like you’re quick to assume they’re right and you’re wrong. I bloody hate the way they’re always on the lookout for ways they can make a dig at you. Too many miracles, not enough miracles, too kind, not kind enough, too fond of earth, not involved enough.

You’re never going to please that bunch of turnip-brained clodpoles, so why try? Earth’s got a limited time anyway. Better enjoy it while we have it, and do what pleases you. You can do that and still be an angel, you know. You can still do good if that matters to you.

Hate to see you brought low by them. That was all I meant.

Can we go see a play or something? I hate fighting with you.

Crowley

_Hampton Court Palace, London, 1601_

Dear Crowley,

You were right about court life, bless my buttons. This is worse than being the Earl of Arundel!

However, I find myself delighted by seeing Hamlet grow in popularity. Thank you, my dear.

It was good to see you at the play. I had missed you too. You must understand, Crowley, too much questioning is not a good thing.

Aziraphale

_Canongate, Edinburgh, 1601_

Right, angel. Message received loud and clear. Questioning is bad, people who do it are stupid.

Hampton Court Palace, London, 1601

_Hampton Court Palace, London, 1601_

You know perfectly well that’s not what I meant. 

Sincerely,  
Aziraphale

* * *

_Schönbrunn Palace Vienna, 1795_

Dear Crowley,

I fear I need your rescue now more desperately than I ever did at the Bastille. I am drowning in opulence - and no, that is not a good thing. Did you know this blasted palace has 1441 rooms? Oh, I don’t deny the beauty of the place, but my mission here seems so utterly vacuous. Inspire the addition of extra sculptures to the garden? What are Heaven thinking? I have inspired statues of Bacchus and Imhotep, because Gabriel gets his halo in a knot over half-human children of Gods. Something about the Nephilim, I think.

You would love the gardens here. And the balls are surely an excellent opportunity to tempt nobles to lust and misbehaving?

Do come and visit, Crowley. I miss you. I know a couple of centuries or thereabouts is not long for us, but we have such limited time upon this world, perhaps we ought to be more particular about scheduling time together….

Yours,   
Aziraphale

_The Royal Crescent, Bath, 1790_

Live in the moment and enjoy what we time we have? My ways are rubbing off on you.

I’ll be there tomorrow.

Crowley

_Schönbrunn Palace Vienna, 1790_

My dear Crowley,

I am so very sorry. I know, I know, you said you understand, and you were so warm and kind, and I do believe you, Crowley.

I wanted to kiss you and hold you more than this body wants oxygen. But I am becoming afraid, more than ever, of what could happen if we were caught. The whole business with Gabriel monitoring my miracles has spooked me.

I hope our next meeting will be a little less fraught. 

Yours,  
Aziraphale

_Hanover Square, London, 1862_

“But you are fallen”? You don’t care about what questions I asked, or whether I’m a demon, until it suits you to use them as barbs. 

Look, I said you’ll always have my friendship, and I meant it. But I am going to need a moment, angel. I just wanted to keep us both safe. Did you really think I wanted an easy out?

_Soho, London, 1862_

  
Dear Crowley,

I understand. Do take care, won’t you?

Sincerely,  
Aziraphale

_Soho, London, 1862 (unsent)_

_Take care? What was I thinking of? Of all the cold-sounding … I am so sorry. But I hardly know how to say the things I wish to say to you. When you handed me that note, it felt like all my blood froze in my veins and left me too cold to feel the warmth of joy, or hope._

_The thought of a universe without you in it, is one I cannot tolerate. I would do - will do - anything I can to prevent that. And yet, if the Great Plan comes to pass, I will be as bereft as if you had been destroyed, though I will draw comfort from knowing you are alive, somewhere._

_How shall I live, if we win, and you are left in Hell? I know you would not come back to Heaven even if I asked it of you, even if they would allow it. I imagine it would not be safe for me to come to Hell, though I would do it, for you._

_Perhaps it is better to prepare myself for the separation now. You would tell me no, it is better to enjoy what we have right now. I want to believe you, Crowley. I feel so lost, but I want to embrace what we do have, no matter how faint a shade it may seem compared to what you wanted, what you offered me._

_I shall miss you, until we are in one another’s lives again. I hope it will not be too long._

_With my love,_  
_Aziraphale_

* * *

**From** : theapplewasatrick@gmail.com  
**To** : regencysilversnuffboxes@gmail.com  
**Subject** : Do it. You know you want to.

Aw c’mon, angel. I know the letters got a bit dangerous after Gabriel tracked that one (lucky it was just a rant about that restaurant changing their sushi rolls, eh?). You did a good job of excusing it as spying on the enemy.

And I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, swear. But I am absolutely certain neither Heaven nor Hell is monitoring email. If you just saw the other demons when I mentioned computers. Thick as two short planks, the lot of ‘em.

Do you really think your lot are any wiser? 

I’ll even miracle your computer to send them. Might be nice to correspond again. Old time’s sake and all.

Besides, might be a useful way to keep in touch between meetings, while we carry out our plan to raise a perfectly normal antichrist.

PS I like this email thing, but I miss writing with that quill made of your feather. Remember you gave it to me in Rome?

**From** : regencysilversnuffboxes@gmail.com  
**To** : theapplewasatrick@gmail.com  
**Subject** : Oh, very well

Dear Crowley,

This is the most ridiculous email address. However, if it especially pleases you, my dear, I am happy to continue on with the endeavour. I agree with you that Heaven is most unlikely to track me this way. Gabriel and Sandalphon hardly understand what a book is. I should imagine email is quite beyond them.

Giving young Warlock a tricycle though, dear, really? I am familiar with some modern cinematographic films, and I find your humour quite bizarre. What are you going to do next, try and make the child’s head spin round? Honestly, Crowley.

Dinner this Friday? I believe there is a table free at the Ritz.

Sincerely,  
Aziraphale

PS Of course I recall, dear boy. You gave me one in kind, and I treasure it. Even in these days of electronic mail, I use it when I write in my journal. That way you are always close at hand, as it were.

* * *

  
**From** : theapplewasatrick@gmail.com  
**To** : regencysilversnuffboxes@gmail.com  
**Subject** : You alright?

It’s gonna be fine, angel. I know I was in a bad mood on the way back from Tadfield, but we’ll figure it out somehow. We’ll both put our people on to it. 

Look while we’re talking about Tadfield … got a bit carried away. I’m sorry. I have a weird history with that place, never sure if it’s being monitored. Still not a reason to go shoving my best friend around, though. 

Let’s do Le Gavroche after we check out that Reubens exhibition this weekend, yeah? Make the most of it just in case we can’t find the blasted kid.

PS You’ve been quiet. What are you up to?

**From** : regencysilversnuffboxes@gmail.com  
**To** : theapplewasatrick@gmail.com  
**Subject** : Eat drink and be merry, so they say

Dear Crowley,

No harm done, dear boy! Yes, Le Gavroche sounds delicious. And I have a very nice oakleaf wine here at the shop. It sounds rather odd, but trust me, it is delicious. Perhaps we might share a bottle?

Should we fail, I shall miss drinking and talking with you. I hope you know that.

Sincerely,  
Aziraphale

**From** : theapplewasatrick@gmail.com  
**To** : regencysilversnuffboxes@gmail.com  
**Subject** : Yup

I know, angel. Me too.

* * *

**From** : regencysilversnuffboxes@gmail.com  
**To** : theapplewasatrick@gmail.com  
**Subject** : I feel so lost

_(DELETED)_

_Dear Crowley,_

_I know who he is. I know where he is. I have the boy’s address. I should tell you. No, I should tell Heaven. I want to tell you. I dare not, though, Crowley. What if in telling you, I tip off Hell somehow? I know I can trust you but what if they find out? What if Heaven knew I’d told you? If I play that particular hand, it could go very ill for us both._

_No, I think the best thing is to tell Heaven but perhaps omit some of the story. Try and ascertain what they will do once they know where the boy is. Perhaps they will realise that destroying the earth is not necessary._

_I must try and persuade them. The thought of giving all this up - of giving you up - is unbearable._

**From** : theapplewasatrick@gmail.com  
**To** : regencysilversnuffboxes@gmail.com  
**Subject** : I really fucking love you

_(DELETED)_

_Fuck, angel, what am I going to do? I have to find a way to survive whatever they send. Gotta keep trying to get to you. Driving away from you was so hard. I should have stayed. I should, but I know they’re coming any time now and I thought if I got away, went to the stars, I could come back for you later. But what if I can’t? What if the great fucking stupid plan works and this world is gone, taking you with it?_

_Nah, I’ve gotta stay here no matter what. Can’t give up yet. Can’t give up on you._

_You’re the best damn thing on this whole earth, do you know that? I would give anything just to see that smile of yours one more time._

_Yours in body, mind, and soul,_  
_Crowley_

**From** : regencysilversnuffboxes@gmail.com  
**To** : theapplewasatrick@gmail.com  
**Subject** : I cannot let you go

_(DELETED)_

_What have I done? Oh, Crowley, what have I done? Watching you walk away from the bandstand, I felt as though the world might as well end at that moment, for surely I could not contain any more pain._

_I love you. I love you to the breadth and depth of the universe and beyond that. I love you to the bottom of the oceans and the highest point of the heavens. Every day of my long life, I have thought of you. How could I tell you that, though, out in the open where anyone could hear? Where they could hear?_

_I cannot love you and keep you safe. I will do my best to save this world for us, Crowley. For every person who lives here, for every one yet to be born and experience the sun on their skin for the first time, and for us, that one day I might share it with you in peace._

_All my love and my deepest apologies,_

_Yours, yours even if you do not know it,_

_Aziraphale_

* * *

_Soho, London, six months after the trials_

My dear Crowley

You will doubtless laugh at me sending you a letter when we talk almost every day. When you have already written litanies of praise across my skin with your lips. But I did so treasure our correspondence, and so I wished to send this message the old fashioned way, for old time’s sake. 

I hope you know this by now, my Crowley, but I rather wanted you to have it in black and white, as it were. I love you. I have loved you for a very long time, and I shall love you for all the times to come. If you wish it, I should very much like to continue spending time together, and exploring this new, deeper relationship in which we find ourselves.

I still have all your letters. I still have that stone from Eden, too … you did have something to do with that, didn’t you?

With love,  
Your Aziraphale

_Later that afternoon_

Angel,

Oh, alright. Yes of course I did. Wanted to give you something. Seems naive now - you could have smote me! - but I wanted you to remember me. 

Maybe I wanted you to have a reminder, too, that someone thought you were worthwhile. Heaven are assholes, and I knew that better than anyone back then.

Anyway, seeing as we’re pretending we’re in a Jane Austen novel and writing love letters, here’s one for you.

I want to be with you every single day. I want to come home to you every night, and be greeted by you every morning. I want to bicker with you about plays and temptations and mistranslated bibles and the correct way to assemble a cream tea.

I want us to develop our own routines, like water making a path through rock. A shape of life that belongs just to us.

Aziraphale, will you marry me?

With love and hope,  
Crowley

_Seconds later, on a tear-stained piece of paper_

Crowley, my dear, beautiful, wonderful Crowley.

Of course I will marry you! My heart has long been yours.

I’ll even let you put the cream on the scone before the jam. That’s how much I love you.

Forever yours,  
Aziraphale

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments are fuel for hungry authors - I'd love to hear what you think ♥
> 
> All historical details are accurate as far as I can tell. I confess I took precisely ZERO notes of my sources during the research phase because I was too busy noting down everything that seemed like it might be important!


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